


Found

by casuallytreebros



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anxiety, Attempted Suicide Mention, Depression, M/M, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Tree Bros, attempted suicide, mostly because I believe real Connor needed a friend and this could work??, only slight change au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-11-05 14:12:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11015031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casuallytreebros/pseuds/casuallytreebros
Summary: "In the mist of his panic, Evan’s eye was caught by one of the computer screens. It must have been the one Connor was using, because it was still logging off.If he hadn’t seen it then, he might have missed it.If he hadn’t seen the ancient computer slowly deleting the internet history, who knows what could have happened.But he did.And he read it."Everything is exactly the same. Evan Hansen has anxiety, Connor Murphy is angry, and they both end up in that computer lab. But in this AU, Evan finds out exactly what Connor was doing in there...





	1. A Good Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan's first day of senior year. Cue Alana Beck, Jared Klienmen, and a very angry Connor Murphy.

‘ _Today is going to be a good day_ ,’ Evan thought to himself as the building came into sight.

It sounded like a lie, even in his head.

And he was pretty good at lying. Maybe. Not really. Did it count if you mostly got away with lying to your mom about why you hadn’t eaten the night before? No, probably not. She wasn’t around enough to appreciate the fact that he was a human being, not a problem to fix with pills and letters written to himself. But Heidi loved him, of course she did. She just… Wasn’t around.

‘ _Today is going to be a good day_ ,’ he repeated mentally, like an unspoken mantra. Wasn’t there some study done about the power of self-persuasion? Maybe if he said it enough times today would be – well, wouldn’t be so bad at least.

He passed through the gates into the school grounds, trying to avoid knocking into anyone as a he joined the steady stream of students moving to their classes. Evan tried to make eye contact with some of them, a miracle in itself, but they all seemed to be busy, laughing with each other and catching up with friends after the long summer.

‘ _That’s okay_ ,’ he told himself, ‘ _there’s still plenty of time_.’ Dr Sherman had been mentoring him about this. ‘ _Just because you miss one opportunity doesn’t mean there won’t be any more_.’ Evan wondered to himself how many times the therapist had told him that.

Dr Sherman was nice; he didn’t push Evan so much. He just asked what he thought about a lot of things, and how they made him feel. It was slow going, but Evan liked to think the therapy was helping him. A little. Maybe. It had to be, otherwise the money it cost Heidi was being thrown away. So he was getting better. He had to be.

Evan flinched as the school bell rang, glancing behind him instinctively to find the source of the noise. He’d forgotten how loud it was. Turning back, he found himself faced with Alana Beck. The girl was known for doing, well, everything. School counsel, prefect, fundraising committee, yearbook committee, prom committee… Probably more. Evan struggled to remember a single assembly she hadn’t somehow been a part of.

“Hey!” She greeted happily. “How was your summer?”

“My uh-“ Evan glanced around, to check she was actually speaking to him. It was rare that anyone other than Jared would approach him. Maybe this was a good sign?

“Mine was productive,” she told him, before he could actually answer her question. “I did three internships and ninety hours of community service. I know, wow.”

Evan attempted to make a friendly smile, though it probably made him look a little crazy. He found himself tugging at the edge of his shirt. “I uh, wow that’s really s-“

“Even though I was so busy, I still made some great friends. Or, well, acquaintances more like.”

The words burst out of him before his anxiety could process what he was doing. “Do you want to maybe- that’s uh, I’m sorry I don’t really know what you’re, um, if you h-have to- do you want to just sign my cast?” He asked, as he fumbled through his pocket for the sharpie he’d brought.

His mom had suggested the idea that morning. Suddenly though, in the split second of confusion Alana showed, he wondered if it had been such a good idea.

“Oh my god! What happened to your arm?” She asked, stepping slightly closer with actual concern in her eyes.

“Oh well I broke it, I was climbing a tree and-“

“Oh really? My grandma broke her hip getting into the bathtub in July. That was the beginning of the end, the doctors said, because then, she **died**.”

Evan was entirely unsure how he was meant to respond to that.

Not even thinking about her signing his cast anymore, he just tried to make sure he wasn’t smiling anymore. Who smiles when they hear someone’s grandmother passed away? Crazy people, that’s who.

“Anyway, happy first day!” She said with a cheery grin, as if that discussion hadn’t just become incredibly dark, and waved goodbye as she walked off.

‘ _Okay_ ,’ he thought, waving back lightly, and putting the sharpie back in his pocket. ‘ _Maybe not Alana then_.’

“Is it weird to be the first person in history to break their arm from jerking off too much? Or do you consider that an honor?” A familiar voice called out to him from behind. Jared Kleinman.

Evan span around, his face turning beet red in embarrassment. “I wasn’t- I w-wasn’t doing that,” he protested, moving next to Jared in the hopes he would speak quieter.

“Paint me the picture, you’re lying in your bedroom, you’ve got Zoe Murphy’s Instagram up on your weird, off-brand cellphone…”

“That’s not what happened! O-Obviously,” he replied, looking around at people passing by to see if anyone was giving them weird looks. He didn’t have to worry though. No one was paying them any attention. “It’s just, well, I was climbing a tree and I- I fell.”

Jared looked like a kid on Christmas morning. He often made fun of Evan, and he didn’t mind it. Really, he didn’t. But Evan falling from a tree was the perfect ammo for him; he would be hearing jokes about it for months.

“You fell out of a tree? What are you, like, an acorn?” the other boy laughed, shaking his head.

“Well I was…” Evan knew his explanation wouldn’t be enough, Jared would continue to tease and belittle him anyway. But he wanted to explain. The more he told the story the truer it seemed. Power of self-persuasion. “I don’t know if you know this but I worked this summer as an Apprentice Park Ranger? Um, at Ellison State Park. I’m sort of a, tree expert now…”

He smiled and ducked his head slightly at this. He’d found something he loved, really loved. He’d always quite liked writing, and reading too. But nature, especially trees, that’s where his heart was. There was something peaceful about them, about just being alone in a wood or knowing how far a single seed must have traveled to grow into something so big, so _strong_. Trees could be struck by lightning and keep living. There was something within that to love.

“Anyway, I um… I tried to climb this forty foot tall oak tree-“

“And then you fell?” Jared interrupted, raising his eyebrow at the other.

“I- yes, but it’s a funny story actually, because there was a solid ten minutes after I fell where I just lay there on the ground waiting for someone to come get me and- I was just- you know, like ‘Any second now’ I was saying to myself ‘Any second now, they’re gonna come’,” he explained, gesturing off towards the lockers as if someone would come running up the corridor towards them now. They'd probably be really out of breath from running so hard, and would apologize for being so late, for not finding him under that tree.

“Did they?” Jared asked, but didn’t seem to care too much.

“No, nobody came. That’s the, um, that’s the funny part,” Evan said, his voice lowering to mumbles as he realized it probably wasn’t that funny.

“Jesus Christ,” Jared scoffed, looking his broken arm over again.

“So uh, h-h-how was- what did y-you do for the-“ Evan tried to start, his stutter worsening as his nerves started to get to him. He let out a soft sigh before trying again. “Did you have a g-good summer?”

“Well, my bunk _dominated_ in capture the flag, and I got to second base below the bra with this girl from Israel who’s going to be in the army, so... Ha, yeah. I'm sure that uh, answers your question,” Jared smirked, before turning to walk away.

Knowing how it had turned out with Alana, Evan realized that Jared was probably his best bet if anyone was going to write on his arm. “Uh, hey, do you- Do you want to sign my cast?”

“Oh uh, why are you asking me?” Jared questioned, looking at Evan with genuine confusion.

Anxiety levels raising rapidly, the boy returned to fumbling with the edge of his shirt. It was a nice blue polo. Heidi had read somewhere that blue colors were relaxing, helped you to calm yourself faster or something. Since it was Evan’s favorite color, he had no complaints to make. However, the seams on some of the shirts were coming loose due to him almost constantly worrying them with his fingers.

“W-W-Well I just thought, c-cos we’re friends…”

“We’re _family_ friends,” Jared emphasized, cutting him off and making Evan’s heart sink slightly. Of course. Family friends, nothing else. He nodded as the other continued, but focused mostly on not being too hurt by his words. Who would want to be real friends with him anyway? He was just – this. A nerd, a loser. Invisible. He vaguely registered Jared saying: “Hey, tell your mom to tell my mom that I was nice to you or else my parents won’t pay for my car insurance.”

Evan just nodded, and moved to walk away, not wanting to take up any more of Jared’s time. He was always in the way, after all. Of his mom, his teachers, everyone…

“Hey Connor! Love the new hair length. Very school shooter chic.”

Evan looked back over his shoulder to see what was going on, and to his horror, realized just who Jared was now talking to.

Connor Murphy.

 _The_ Connor Murphy.

Connor Murphy who was infamous for his anger and violent outbursts.

How many times had he heard the whispers about Connor throwing that printer in second grade? At a _teacher_. Evan couldn’t even dream of doing anything that mean, or violent for that matter. He couldn’t pull petals off a flower, let alone assault someone. And printers were heavy, so to launch one at someone needed a lot of adrenaline. Or aggression.

Evan quietly swallowed, as he felt the tension build in the awkward silence. He knew Jared was joking, but he knew Jared. Connor Murphy did not. He wasn’t religious, but Evan couldn’t help send up a quick prayer for Jared. From what he’d heard, Connor would leave his ‘family friend’ a dead kid.

“I was just kidding. It was a joke?” Jared said slowly, as if Connor was having difficulty understanding something simple.

Evan was like a deer in headlights, but he wasn’t the one about to get hit by a truck. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the dagger-like glare Connor Murphy was giving his fri- Family friend. It was as intense as a thunder cloud.

“Yeah no, it was funny, I’m laughing. Can’t you tell?” he asked monotonously, but there was an edge to his voice that made him sound threatening. As if he was daring Jared to continue. “Am I not laughing hard enough for you?” He asked, a little louder as he stepped slowly closer.

Jared seemed to realize then that if Connor decided to throw a punch at something, he was going to be the target. Throwing his hand up in a vague gesture, Jared muttered: “You’re such a freak,” before walking off to class, leaving Evan with his feet glued to the floor.

Surely it was time for class now. It had to be, right? Because the halls were practically empty now. Yet there he was. Stood. Stuck. Trapped.

Though nothing was funny, Evan found himself letting out a single breathy laugh. He knew it was his nerves, but suddenly Connor was looking at him with the same intensity he had with Jared. ‘ _Crap._ ’

“What the fuck are you laughing at?”

“W-What?” Evan stuttered, still unable to move.

“Stop fucking laughing at me!” Connor exclaimed, making Evan flinch.

“No, I-I’m not-” he started to protest, but Connor wasn’t going to listen to him apparently, cos he just got louder.

“You think I’m a freak?”

“No, no I don’t-“

“I’m not the freak,” he growled, storming towards the other.

“But I-I-I wasn’t laughing at y-“

“You’re the fucking freak!” He yelled, and shoved Evan’s shoulders fiercely, knocking him to the floor.

Instinctively, Evan tried to cover his face and stomach in case his assailant decided to land another blow, but the long haired male had already stalked off. His loud, stomping footsteps gradually faded away, lost in the other sounds that suddenly seemed to be too much, they were all too loud for him.

‘ _Today is going to be a good day,_ ’ Evan tried again weakly, but now it most definitely sounded like a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaddup so I've returned to writing fanfiction (????) right before my exams (?????????????????) but I really enjoyed this. It was so nice to do something creative again. 
> 
> Anyway, as hard-core fans will have noticed, this follows very closely to the canon. Once we pass the computer lab scene things will switch up, but I hope you guys will like this. Please feel free to throw suggestions and ideas at me in the comments, it makes a writer happy :D Oh, and be ready for slow burn; I feel like these two could actually have happened if there were some slight differences.
> 
> Cheery-bye,
> 
> \- Red x


	2. A Very Bad Day, Indeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan finds out why Connor was in the computer lab.

Wincing slightly as he got up, Evan tried to block out all the pain that was raging in his shoulder along with all the sounds. Doors slamming, people laughing and shouting, so, so many footsteps… He got to his feet and was about to cover his ears or something else that would look entirely ridiculous, when Zoe Murphy ran over.

She wasn’t perfect in the conventional media kind of way, but in her imperfections. She was all freckles and smiles and pretty hair. Pretty everything, really. She was always seen surrounded by friends, but Evan supposed it was just because she was so easily likable. Evan was definitely aware of that. He was certainly not the only guy in this school with a crush on her, not that anyone had told him so. She was just popular and pretty and kind, even if Connor was her polar opposite.

“Hey, I’m sorry about my brother. I saw him push you? He’s a psychopath.” She shook her head and looked away for a moment, and Evan wondered how many times she had apologized on her older sibling’s behalf. She looked a little tired of it.

He immediately felt bad, because if he hadn’t laughed and annoyed Connor, he wouldn’t have been pushed and she wouldn’t feel like she had to check on him.

“Evan, right?” She asked.

“Evan,” he just repeated, stupidly. Stupid. Idiot. Everyone hates people who just repeat their name back, why had he done that?

“That’s your name?” She questioned, a slightly amused look on her face.

“YesitisitsEvansorry,” he blurted out, and his head ducked straight to the floor.

Calm. Collected. Confident. Those were the things he was meant to be today.

He could see that crashing and burning before his eyes.

“Why are you sorry?” Now she sounded concerned. He had to stop being such a freak. He was scaring her. He probably seemed like someone who’d escaped a psych ward.

“Because you said Evan, and then I said it and I repeated it which is just- that is so annoying when people do that, so…” This came out slightly slower this time, which was an improvement of sorts. Maybe.

The brunette gave him a half smile and stuck out her hand to him to shake. “I’m Zoe.”

“Yes, no I know,” Evan said with a nod, wiping the sweat from his palms onto his trousers. He couldn’t have sweaty hands if they were going to shake. He remembered the last time he’d actually tried to speak to her, and how he’d tried putting his hands under a hand dryer to get rid of the sweat a few minutes before just in case. It didn’t work; his hands were still sweaty, just… Warm.

“You know?” She asked, retracting her outstretched hand before he could shake it. Probably a good thing, he didn’t trust himself not to gross her out if they shook hands.

“Itsjustthativeseenyouplayguitarinjazzband. I love jazz band, I love jazz- well not all jazz but definitely like jazz band jazz thatssoweirdimsorry.”

Evan kind of just wanted the ground to swallow him. He was moron, why did he think this was a good idea? He couldn’t stop himself from word-vomiting whenever she asked him anything.

“You apologize a lot.”

“Sorry. I uh, y-you know what I mean…” Abort. Abort mission. He looked down at his cast, biting his lower lip as he tried to teleport away.

“Okay, well I’ll just-“

She was turning to walk away. He had no clue why but he didn’t want her to leave. He’d embarrassed himself endlessly but she was talking to him. Willingly. And he needed to go home with at least one person’s name on his cast, because he didn’t want to see the pity in his mom’s eyes when she realized what a lonely, sad loser she’d made.

“Youdontmaybewanttosignmycastdoyou? I uh, I mean wha- what’d you say?”

Smooth.

“Uh, I didn’t say anything. You just said something?”

“No, uh me? No way… Jose,” he finished awkwardly.

“Okay – Jose,” she joked with a half-smile, waving goodbye as she moved off.

Right, lessons. She had to go to them. So did he. He had to be somewhere right now. But he was stuck where he was, unmovable.

He wasn’t sure how long he had stayed in that corner for, but suddenly the bell was ringing again.

He must have missed tutor. He would get in trouble if he didn’t go to his next lesson soon, and he needed to apologize for being late. Maybe he could make up some lie about sleeping in, and hope they wouldn’t ring home, because Heidi would know it wasn’t true.

Breathing a little too heavily, he tried to focus on moving just one foot forward. Then the other. It was slow going, but one step at a time he made his way to free period.

 

x   x   x   x   x

 

Classes were slow today. English was probably the best as it was just going over the spec, but then he’d had Math straight after which killed his mood again. The teacher really didn’t like him, because he was one of many who thought his anxiety was just him being raised as a ‘softie’ or a ‘wuss’. He tended to give Evan a hard time, so he just tried to keep his head down.

By some miracle, he made it to the end of the day in one piece.

‘ _Today is going to be a good day_ ,’ Evan tried to think to himself again, his mantra losing any power it had had over him.

His phone buzzed quietly, and he saw it was his mom ringing. Heading towards the computer lab, he picked up. He’d completely forgotten about his letter, he’d have to write one before she got here.

“Hey mom, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Hey sweetie. Look, I’m really sorry-“

She didn’t have to finish, Evan knew what was coming.

“You’re not outside, are you?”

“Yeah honey, I know I’m supposed to pick you up for your appointment. I’m stuck at work, Gina called in with the flu and they don’t have any other nurses paid on for today, so I volunteered.”

“Yeah no, that’s fine,” Evan said quietly. He’d just have to walk, it wasn’t too far. He walked a lot these days, driving was too stressful. It just worsened his anxiety.

“And also, uh, go ahead and eat without me. I won’t be home till late, I’ve got to go straight from here to class. You can heat up those Trader Joe’s dumplings from the freezer?”

“Maybe.” It wasn’t like he’d have anything else; there was nothing else in the freezer and ordering food in was a nightmare for him.

“Oh, did you write one of those letters yet? Dr Sherman’s expecting you to have one. ‘Dear Evan Hansen, today’s gonna be a good day and here’s why.’”

“Yeah, no, I already finished it,” he lied, trying not to sound too downhearted about being left home alone again. “I’m in the computer lab right now printing it out.”

“How was it today, honey?”

“It was… Yeah, it was great.” It didn’t sound convincing to anyone, but it was enough for her.

“Great! Great. I hope it’s the beginning of a great year. I think we both could use one of those. Oh shit, I gotta run. Bye.” The phone hung up with a soft beep.

“Bye,” he muttered to no one.

With a sigh, he entered the lab and sat at the first computer he came across, not bothering to look around. He just needed to get this done. Logging in, he opened a word document and started to type.

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Turns out today wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year, cos why would it be?_

_I know, I know. Because there’s Zoey. All my hope is pinned on Zoey, who I don’t even know and who doesn’t know me, but… You know, maybe if I did, maybe if I could just talk to her…_

_Maybe nothing would be different at all._

_I wish everything was different. I wish I was part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone._

_I mean, face it, would anyone notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?_

_Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,_

_Me._

He hit print, sighing quietly to himself. Dr Sherman probably would tell him off for doing the assignment wrong. Or ask why he felt this way. Or ask about Zoey.

Evan wasn’t sure he could handle that. But he had to go soon or he’d be late; there wasn’t enough time to write out another letter, and make it a complete and convincing lie.

He let out a few shaky breaths as he heard the printer kick into action, and started to close the document and log off. He was glad that the school wasn’t advanced enough to scan documents and searches for words or phrases, Jared had already bragged to him about all the stuff he’d done on school computers, and all he’d had to do afterwards was delete his internet history.

If the school ever did scan what was typed, Evan would have seen the dean more times than he cared to imagine.

“So…” A voice started, and Evan jumped. He hadn’t realized anyone else had been in the computer lab with him. He got up and turned, finding the last person he expected to be facing him.

Connor Murphy.

Evan’s only real encounter with him had been this morning, when he’d been shoved roughly to the ground by the other. Had he come for a second round?

“Um, what happened to your arm?”

Oh. Not what he’d expected. Connor didn’t even sound angry, more... Uncertain. What did Connor Murphy have to be uncertain about?

Evan glanced down at his arm to almost check what he meant. Right, broken arm. Cast. Kinda obvious.

“Oh its- I um… I fell out of a tree, actually.” He didn’t look Connor in the eye. Instead, he just stayed with his eyes glued to his cast, mentally replaying the experience. The free fall. The awkward landing.

“Fell out of a tree?” He repeated, something in his eyes looking a little disbelieving. “Well that is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, oh my god,” Connor scoffed, but it didn’t sound like how he’d expected it. Evan had been waiting for the inevitable insults, name calling or… Or something. Something mean. But he’d just sounded a little bemused.

“Yeah, I know,” Evan agreed quietly, still looking away. He wasn’t sure he could make eye contact with Connor just yet, not with how intense they’d been last time.

“Um, no one’s signed your cast?”

“No, I know.” ‘ _And now you know that it’s probably because I have no friends_ ,’ Evan finished in his head.

“Well I’ll sign it.”

He had to leave soon. He was going to be late for his appointment. But Connor seemed almost determined to have a conversation now, to keep Evan talking to him. Maybe he felt bad about earlier?

“Oh you – Y-You don’t have t-t-to,” Evan promised, taking a couple of small steps backward, and betraying his fear.

“Do you uh, have a sharpie?” The other persisted.

Evan nodded lightly, digging it out of his pocket and offering it with an outstretched arm.

Connor took it, and stepped closer as he undid the pen, before grabbing Evan’s broken arm.

“Ow,” he winced, and Connor looked up at him.

He didn’t apologize, but he did seem to be checking if Evan was okay. When no more was said, Connor started to scrawl his name.

Evan looked down to see Connor had in fact covered the entire side of his outer forearm in black sharpie, spelling ‘CONNOR’ out in all capital letters.

“Oh, great. Thanks,” he stuttered out quickly, just wanting to escape. Now Dr Sherman would ask about his cast, and who Connor was and why he’d never been mentioned before.

“Yeah. Well, now we can both pretend that we have friends,” Connor offered in a sarcastic voice, passing back the sharpie with a slight shrug.

“That’s good- good point…” Evan mumbled, and started to walk off.

He had to get out, quickly.

“Is this yours?”

Evan looked back again. Connor was holding his letter out to him, the one he’d printed earlier. The one he needed to take to his therapy session which he was undoubtedly going to be late for. Evan became vaguely aware of the black nail polish the other was wearing.

“It’s, it’s uh… I found it on the printer. ‘Dear Evan Hansen’, that’s your name, right?”

Connor knew his name? Well in fairness, Evan did have some classes with him. It was rare Connor actually attended those lessons, but when he did, they were in the same room for registration.

“Oh yeah, nononono that’s just a stupid, it’s just this paper that I had to write so it’s for an assignment-“ he babbled, but Connor cut him off, angling his body away from the other boy.

“Because there’s Zoe?” He asked quietly, eyes locked on the paper. “Uh…” The taller male turned himself back to face Evan. “Is this about my sister?”

“No! Nononono it’s-“

“You wrote this because you knew that I would find it,” Connor said, not letting Evan explain. He sounded almost defeated.

“W-W-What?”

“Yeah. You uh, saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed this out so that I would find it,” he said, stabbing at the paper now with his fingertip.

“Why- Uh, w-w-why would I-I even-“

“So I would read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right?” He yelled, not looking at Evan now. His free hand was balled into a fist. “And then you can tell everyone that _I’m crazy_! Right?”

“What! N-“

“Fuck you!” He roared, and stormed away from Evan for the second time that day.

“No wait! Please, no. I really need that back! So can you just- Please I need that back!” Evan cried out, started to run after him but he realized it would be no use. He wasn’t fast, he got easily out of breath, and Connor had practically flown from the building in his rage.

Panicking now, because he had no letter and was late for his appointment, Evan went back into the computer room to check if the printer had accidentally made a second copy of the stupid letter.

Seeing it empty, he felt himself falling into despair. What was he going to do? He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t go to Dr Sherman’s without a letter but he _had_ to go even if he was late and he couldn’t go back to school if Connor Murphy was there because he would kill him and his mom would be devastated if he was dead because she would be left alone and it was all too much to think about right now.

In the mist of his panic, Evan’s eye was caught by one of the computer screens. It must have been the one Connor was using, because it was still logging off.

If he hadn’t seen it then, he might have missed it.

If he hadn’t seen the ancient computer slowly deleting the internet history, who knows what could have happened.

But he did.

And he read it.

‘ _Deleting search: **How to hang yourself**.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. There it is.
> 
> Now things are obviously gonna stray a little from canon, bear with me on updates because I'm trying to finish the next chapter before I post the previous if that makes sense? So I have to finish chapter 4 before I post chapter 3. 
> 
> ALSO for those of you wondering why Connor would search this on a school computer of all things, I have this headcannon that The Murphy's (aka Cynthia) put a Norton Family Safety-type system on their kids' devices, which flag up inappropriate or concerning searches and basically block off any bad sites. Hence, shitty ancient school computers.
> 
> Finally, kudos and comments make a writer happy, and if you guys have any questions etc my tumblr is 'casuallytreebros' so have fun with that. I'm a chatty gal.
> 
> Cheery-bye,
> 
> \- Red x


	3. A "Lucky" Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan makes a decision. Zoe takes action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: Evan has a near-miss with a panic attack, and there's some Zoe POV at the end of the chapter that may upset some readers. Contains mentions of suicide, attempted suicide and some other unpleasant things of that nature. Be careful, kiddos.

Evan blinked rapidly, but it was gone. The search had disappeared, and the computer started to log off.

Had he imagined it? He could have. He was so stressed that imagining that search could… Could be a possibility. Maybe.

But what if he hadn’t?

What if Connor really had been searching for a way to end his own life?

Evan didn’t really know Connor, but in the halls and lessons he struggled to recall even one instance where he’d seen the other so much as smile. But that didn’t mean he was necessarily suicidal.

What would he do anyway? Ring up Connor’s house? Ask his parents if they were aware that their son was potentially a danger to himself, and perhaps he could get them to remove all the wires and ropes from the house?

The idea was laughable; Evan couldn’t even make a call to a pizza parlor to order takeaway, let alone have a full blown conversation with some strangers.

The phone was his mortal enemy.

No, that wasn’t true. His real enemy was his anxiety. The pills he took were shields that took most of the blows. But anxiety has a funny way of turning anything into a weapon, from the way a stranger looks at you to a chance you didn’t take.

He was overthinking everything.

But the guilt, the guilt was already stabbing at him. Because he was too afraid to tell Connor’s family. He didn’t even have any means to. It wasn’t like Evan knew their numbers or anything.

He could do more though, couldn’t he? Surely.

But what if it was nothing?

But what if it _wasn’t?_

Evan gripped at his hair, and his breathing started to become more shallow and rapid. It was all too much. Too much.

He was picturing Connor’s funeral, the old priest who would stand to say: “ _It’s such a tragic death, when one takes their own life and no one around them notices the signs in time to stop them. To them, no one seems to care or stops to notice that they’re there, so they get lost in an  in-between. If only someone had spoken up, spoken to him. If only Evan Hansen hadn’t been a coward and a freak, then maybe Connor Murphy would still be alive and well today._

His imagination was going wild. Evan found himself leaning against a wall, and sliding down it till he was sat on the floor, and wrapped his arms around his knees.

Zoe. Zoe would know what to do. She was his sister. He didn’t think the two siblings were close anymore, but she had spoken to Evan today. Admittedly, he’d been really weird about basically everything, but maybe if he messaged her, asked if she could do something as simple as just check in on her brother… Maybe he could find out if he’d made it all up, just created some bad thoughts and false memories to haunt himself with.

He couldn’t look at the clock. He didn’t want to know how late he was for his appointment now, but he also needed to know how far Connor had gone. Was he going to do it at home? Someplace else? Did he live nearby? If so, how long does it take someone to asphyxiate? That is, if he hadn’t broken his neck.

Oh god.

Evan faintly had begun to notice that his fingertips were tingling, and knew that unless he calmed down, he’d spiral into a full blown panic attack. He was already halfway there, by now.

Fumbling for his phone as he tried helplessly to slow his breathing down, he took four attempts to unlock the damn thing, his hands were so sweaty now. How could he message her?

Sure, Zoe probably had an account for every single social media site under the sun, but Evan… Less so. He had a Facebook he didn’t use, and an Instagram account simply to follow Zoe. Of course, he followed other people, or it would look weird. He never liked or commented on any photographs either, because otherwise it’d give away how Zoe’s was the only account he ever really looked at.

He was pretty sure she would look at a message if it came in on her Instagram. Maybe.

But what could he say?

‘ _Hey Zoe, I’m that guy who stuttered and rambled a load at you earlier today. I was wondering if you would mind checking in on your brother, because even though I’ve only spoken to him twice I am concerned that he might be ready to-‘_

He couldn’t even finish the sentence in his head.

He’d had to have made it up. It was just because of… Because of his cast. Connor signing it and shoving him must’ve brought up a load of bad thoughts, and in his messed up state of mind he’d just imagined it.

He couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t risk it being real.

And it terrified him.

Evan let out a shuddery breath, before starting to type. His fingers were so sweaty it took him forever to finish, or it felt like forever at least. He had to keep wiping the screen clear.

‘ _Hi Zoe, it’s Evan Hansen. We spoke earlier today?’_

If she replied, then he could tell her. And by not immediately starting with- with the news, she might actually speak to him. Maybe. He hoped…

It was only about thirty seconds later that the screen of his phone lit up.

‘ **Hey, I thought it was Jose? ;) What’s up?** _’_

She replied.

She’d actually replied.

Evan couldn’t help glancing at the time again. It had been about fifteen minutes since Connor had run off with his letter. How long did it take the Murphy’s to get home? How long did it take to run up to your bedroom or restroom and-

No, he couldn’t think like this now. He wiped the sweat from his hands onto his trousers, and started typing a new message.

_‘Hahaha. And I know this may sound a bit weird, but do you know where your brother is?’_

Yeah, she was going to think he was weird. Zoe was definitely going to be weirded out. ‘ _Weird, weird, weird, so weird! Why are you being so weird?!’_ he mentally scolded. Why would he want to know that anyway? About the guy who’d pushed him to the floor right in front of her?

He couldn’t really blame her. It didn’t make any sense.

**‘I think he’s in his room, but he only just got back. What’s this about?’**

He was just trying to take deep breaths, slow and deep. He needed to calm down and get Zoe to check on Connor.

‘ _Can_ _you trust me on_ _something please?_ ’

‘ **Sure, what is it though?** ’

‘ _Can you go and check if Connor’s okay?_ ’

‘ **Is this because he pushed you? He’s always like that, I’m sorry :/** _’_

Evan knew he was running out of time. Looking over to the clock on the wall, he bit down on his lower lip as he tried to focus on typing.

_‘No, it’s not. Just, please. Can you go see if he’s okay?’_

This time the wait was about ten seconds long. It felt like centuries. Those three little dots showed her typing several times before finally he received a message:

**‘Alright…?’**

Relief washed over Evan like a tidal wave. ‘ _Good,’_ he thought to himself. ‘ _Things will be okay now… Won’t they?’_

He just hoped he was wrong about all of this.

x   x   x   x   x

Zoe Murphy had been sat out in the garage like she was every Monday night. She had a schedule, and was pretty predictable.

Monday evening, guitar practice until her mom returned from some rare Buddhist yoga class and her dad got back from the weekly progress meeting.

Tuesday evening, jazz band. Also known as takeout Tuesday for the Murphys, when Cynthia wasn’t being a vegan or only eating celery and fish.

Wednesday, ‘family night’ (this mostly consisted of Cynthia forcing everyone to eat at the same table for dinner and saying “ _We need to converse with one another!_ ”).

Thursday from around five o’clock, guitar lessons with Mr Day. He was the best music teacher in the area, and Zoe proved it. She had been told many times that her talent could really take her places.

Friday, social night, wherein she was around another friend’s house or someone came over to hers or there was a party that she simply _had_ to attend because it was a cute boy from her Lit class or that nice guy from Spanish.

But today, it was a Monday. She’d been practicing her solo for the jazz band performance coming up next month, when she received a message from… Evan Hansen?

Oh right, Evan. The senior Connor had shoved to the floor this morning.

She put her guitar to one side as they messaged one another. The younger Murphy sibling was undeniably confused at Evan’s request. Go check on her brother? She never spoke to him. Not unless she was telling him to fuck off over the dinner table or covering her ears as he pounded on her door, threatening to kill her.

Even if it was probably the last thing she wanted to do instead of playing guitar, she couldn’t help but sigh as she looked at her phone. It was probably just him being a nice guy trying or trying be a better person or something. It wasn’t like Connor had any friends.

Leaving the garage, she went back into the house. Already, Zoe could hear Connor playing loud music that was blasting from his bedroom. ‘ _Sounds like Connor_ ,’ she thought bitterly, but approached his room nonetheless.

On her way up the stairs, she couldn’t help but wonder how they had stopped being so close. It wasn’t an overnight thing, after all. She could clearly remember the days the two had spent searching for four leaf clovers, whenever their parents tried to take them out, especially for picnics. But then slowly he’d stopped talking to her, and they would fight more and more-

She was drawn out of her thoughts when she heard a loud thudding sound from Connor’s room. She probably wouldn’t have heard it over his music if she’d been any further away.

“Connor? Hey, Connor? Are you okay?” She tried asking, or rather tried yelling over the music.

She got no response, so with a sigh, shoved his door opened.

“Connor I-“

She didn’t finish.

She didn’t finish because the first thing she saw was Connor on the ground, with a noose around his neck.

Panic swiftly overwhelmed her, and she ran into his room.

“Connor! Connor wake up!”

He was unconscious, but his body seemed to be moving on its own, squirming to get out of the knot. Zoe grabbed the noose by either side, trying to claw it off.

It just got tighter.

“Fuck!” She screamed, getting up and looking around hopelessly. No scissors. No razors. Nothing.

Her eye caught his desk and she flew to it, opening one of the doors and searching. Searching for something. Anything.

Her hand latched onto the penknife their dad got him for Christmas a couple of years ago, and she dove back down to her brother’s side.

It was awkward, because he kept writhing and clawing at the rope she was trying to cut, and she cut his skin a couple of times, drawing small amounts of blood, but she got the rope off.

Panting, she sat back, staring fearfully at the slumped figure on the floor.

He’d tried to hang himself. She knew he was crazy, but… This was terrifying.

Not knowing what else to do, her shaky hand reached for her phone, and dialed without looking away from the body in front of her.

He didn’t seem to be breathing.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“My… Connor…  He t-tried to kill h-h-himself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> I apologise now to those who thought this was gonna be fluffy. Or have pining Connor. 
> 
> Nope, sorry.
> 
> Also I tried some Zoe P.O.V and I don't know what to think of her character so that probably shows through my writing ahaha. Feedback would be really appreciated on that one!
> 
> Anyhoo, your comments and kudos mean the world to me. Thanks for all the support this fic has gained already! I'll try to update again soon, but my exams are from the 12th to the 20th of June, so it may take a little patience, and take a little time... ;)
> 
> Cheery-bye,
> 
> \- Red x


	4. Aftershocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospitals aren't fun. Evan gets worried. Zoe asks for a favor.  
> tw: suicide attempt mention  
> tw: hanging mention  
> tw: hospitals

Connor couldn't truly understand what was happening. His whole body ached, especially his neck. It's not supposed to hurt after you die, is it? Hell, there's not even supposed to be an 'after'. His head throbbed in pain, and there was something covering the lower part of his face. His eyelids felt too heavy to open so he couldn't see exactly what the thing was, but he was vaguely aware of a sickening plastic smell.

As he became more aware, he could tell he was laying down on some kind of bed. Voices murmured from around his feet, and Connor's stomach twisted as he began to pick up parts of what they were saying.

"…slow hanging makes you immediately start losing oxygen from the carotid artery being squeezed off, either one, on the side of the neck. This makes you start to black out, and if standing, your knees will buckle intermittently. He had probably fainted before having completely released himself from the rope. If deprived of oxygen 30 seconds; he would have completely lost consciousness and would not have been able to stand or release from the stricture enough to make any relief of suffocating.”

“But he was… he was kicking at me, lashing out-“

“His body would have begun to writhe when his lungs found the carbon dioxide levels becoming higher than they should be, making him lash out at you unknowingly.”

“And the sick?”

“The vomit is entirely expected. It’s common when waking up from such a violent act. You’re very lucky your daughter found him so quickly; he has a strong chance of a near-full recovery. Most people who attempt this suffer from brain damage within 5 minutes.”

“Is that why he’s still unconscious? I read if you don't wake up after being released from a… from one of those, it’s a crap shoot whether you will ever become conscious again.”

Was that Zoe? It sounded like her, sort of. He was still confused and uncertain. It didn’t sound _enough_ like her…

“Miss, please don’t worry. We’re doing everything that we can. I've seen cases like this before, and young Mr. Murphy has one of the best chances I’ve seen yet. Brain damage can occur by the time someone has released the rope, but he’s had emergency help, and air forced into his lungs consistently to help even more so. So far, the tests suggest no lasting harm caused by oxygen deprivation. Connor will live."

'No, no…'

Connor wanted to scream. He'd come so close, done everything right. And yet, he'd still fucked it all up. It shouldn't have been such a surprise to him though – when did he ever do anything right? He couldn't even die properly. He'd failed. And now he'd lost his chance; Cynthia and Larry would never let him out of their sight ever again.

Cynthia's voice sounded next, weak and muffled like she'd been crying. "How long will his... Will he look like this?"  
"He will most likely have this dark ring of bruising around the neck for at least a month, and the skin that has been rubbed raw should heal long before then. It's most likely that these red marks are Tardieu's spots from burst capillaries, and the cuts from the blade are quite shallow, so with due care and attention should clear up with minimal scarring." There was a long pause, before the doctor spoke again. "Don't worry, Mrs. Murphy. With therapy and the appropriate medication, your son will recover from this."  

Connor blocked out anything else that was said. He didn’t care, nothing mattered anymore.

Instead, he just welcomed the darkness that engulfed him once more.

x   x   x   x   x

Evan Hansen was not the calmest person as it was. Anxiety and depression left him in a constant state of: “ _Why did I do that? Why did I do that? Why did I do that?”_ and _“Why didn’t I do that? Why didn’t I do that? Why didn’t I do that?”_

So when after three days, neither Zoe nor Connor Murphy appeared in school, it was safe to say that he was constantly on the verge of a breakdown.

He had re-read the messages between Zoe and himself a hundred times, and had been overthinking about every one of them at least a hundred times more. Why didn’t he say thank you after she agreed to check on Connor? Why hadn’t she replied afterwards?

_Why weren’t either of them in school?_

It was quite possibly killing him. He hadn’t been focusing in lessons at all, not even English or Environmental Studies. His homework was piling up, and he was only doing it last minute now, when seized by a great enough panic.

He was just imaging all the scenarios of what could have happened. If Connor was alive. If he wasn’t. If Zoe had found him beforehand and he’d simply waited until later. Or if she’d walked right in when it was too late. If they’d even found him, what if Connor was just missing, what if he was still missing...

It was all too much.

He’d been tempted to tell Jared, but sharing with him about someone else possibly being suicidal did not seem right. Especially since Jared had made fun of Connor the same day everything had happened. And anyway, it wasn’t his right. Evan just didn’t see it as his secret to tell.

It took until the morning of the fourth day for Evan to receive any contact at all. He walked into school, turned the corner of the hallway, when to his instant horror and relief, he saw Zoe. She looked tired and pale; for some reason was standing by his locker, and kept frequently glancing down at her phone. Suddenly realizing she would want to talk to him, he felt the deathly urge to turn and run away. To wipe the sweat from his palms, try and work out what to say to her. Running seemed like a better plan…

But the janitor had cleaned the floor. His tattered sneakers squeaked loudly and gave him away, and Zoe’s head flashed up, her eyes locked on him instantly. Evan swallowed nervously, his steps faltering.

“Evan.” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t relieved or angry or… Or anything. She just sounded tired.

“H-H-Hey Zoe,” he greeted, approaching his locker, and trying to remain casual. He reminded himself that the whole thing could have just been a coincidence, and that he’d made up the whole event of what happened in the computer lab. Maybe they just both got a cold, and that’s why they were off, and that was why Zoe had such dark circles under her eyes.

“I- It’s-” she started, but shook her head suddenly, and ducked her head with a sigh.

“I uh, w-w-what’s up?” Evan tried, his smile shaky and barely there, but he didn’t have any reason to assume something had happened yet. Other than the fact that Zoe Murphy had apparently been waiting for him by his locker. The Zoe Murphy. Who had no idea who he was.

There was a long pause.

Painfully long.

“How did you know?”

It was quiet, and broken, but he heard it. And Evan Hansen could swear to anyone that his heart had just sunk to the floor, and his stomach twisted a thousand times.

“H-H-How did I-I know what?”

“Did he tell you?”

“I-I uh… T-T-Tell m-me…?”

He wanted to ask the question that’d been looming over him for days.

‘ _Is Connor alive?_ ’

But before he could say anything further, Zoe sighed and ran a hand through her hair _._ “Sorry, I just- Never mind.”

Evan could feel it – she hated him. Zoe Murphy hated him. She hated him because he hadn’t told her soon enough or even what Connor had planned to do, and now he was dead and it was his fault because he’d been too busy panicking to act fast enough and now his parents would have to pick out a coffin for their son and the whole school would find out Connor died because Evan was too damn useless to-

“Come on.”

Evan was brought back to reality as he realized Zoe had in fact been speaking to him then.

“H-Huh?”

“I can’t be here right now, wanna come?” She asked, gesturing to the school gates.

Oh.

“Y-Y-You mean like, d-ditch class?” In all his years at school, Evan Hansen had not once ditched a lesson or day unless he was paralyzed by illness or could not bring himself to leave his bed – there was no way he could deal with all the pressure of catch up work. But Zoe had a look on her face that made him realise that if he was any kind of good person, he shouldn’t leave her alone right now.

“You don’t have to come with me-“

“Nonononono it’s fine, y-yeah I’ll uh… Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Howdy.
> 
> I honestly thought I would end it after chapter 3, but then I kept getting ideas, and here we are. I hope the suspense wasn't too much - but yes, Connor survived. Now we get some new interactions, and it will not be easy going to start with.
> 
> Also, shout out to NozomiPower for the bookmark tags, cos your endless patience is appreciated ;)
> 
> Cheery-bye,
> 
> \- Red x


	5. A Bitter Taste in Our Mouths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe ditches class. Evan is confronted. And stressed. Again.

Evan Hansen was not a coffee drinker. Nor, in fact, was he a tea drinker. In fact, he tried to avoid any and all beverages with high levels of caffeine ever since Dr Sherman had explained the effects could increase his chances of having panic attacks.

He wouldn’t have cared that much, but his mom would worry after a certain number of breakdowns in a week, and then would book an extra therapy session for Evan and so she’d have to work overtime and take on extra shifts and re-arrange classes and study sessions to pay for the help that he wouldn’t have needed if he had just stuck to drinking water in the first place.

That, along with the cutting class and not having any money with him, was probably why he was breathing so heavily as he followed after Zoe into the café down the road from their school.

Evan swallowed thickly as if a lump was closing off his throat, and started to grip the strap of his backpack like if he just wished for it enough, it would morph into a jet pack that would launch him into the sun.

“Do you want a coffee or something?”

“Hm s-s-sorry?”

“Do. You. Want. Something?” Zoe repeatedly slowly, nodding her head toward the counter. The café was pretty much empty aside from two elderly women sitting in the far corner and a bored looking woman in her thirties, who appeared to be very busy with lazily cleaning the drink machines and glancing at the clock every two seconds. The only sounds were the soft murmurs of conversation, and the staff’s dramatic sighs every now and again.

“No. I m-m-mean, no th-thank you, I j-j-just… I don’t- Well y-y-you see I don’t h-have....” Evan twisted the hem of his polo shirt tightly in his hands, wringing it. All this stress because he didn’t know how to explain that he didn’t really have the money to spend on a five dollar coffee drink. Along with everything else.

“I’ll buy.”

“Oh. N-no, it’s alright.”

Zoe didn’t seem embarrassed to be seen with Evan stuttering all over himself, which was maybe nice, Evan didn’t know. “Look, it’s honestly fine. Let me buy you something. I owe you I guess, or someone does, especially after everything going on at the minute.”

“Owe m-m-me?”

“Yeah.” Zoe shrugged, but didn’t offer him any further information. “What do you want?”

Evan lamely mumbled something about a tap water, but after a piercing glare from Zoe he swiftly changed his answer to a small hot chocolate with no whip that didn’t seem too expensive or caffeinated. He refrained from offering to pay her back later.

There was a quiet wash of relief when she got up to order for them both.

Sat by the window, Evan couldn’t help but shrink in his seat slightly. The sky was filled with dark clouds looming overhead, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it started raining later.

Taking a deep breath or two, he tried to focus in on the situation he was currently in.

‘ _Okay Hansen, let’s just think. Maybe she just wants to thank you for being concerned about her brother?’_ He instantly knew that wasn’t it. The way she had called Connor a psycho the other day didn’t make it seem likely that she was particularly close to him, after all.

‘ _Okay, what else? Could she even just be warning you away from Connor? Tell you it’s a bad idea to be friends with him because he’s crazy and would just shove him all the time or throw a printer at him?’_ Now that he thought about it, that whole story sounded… Off. Unless the printer was tiny (which to Evan’s memory, it wasn’t) or the child throwing it happened to be a bodybuilder, printers were really heavy to even lift. How could he have thrown one?

Lost in his train of thought, he jumped when he realised Zoe was back with their drinks. “Th-th-thank you,” he mumbled, politely taking the mug and taking a sip. It was far too hot and burned his tongue, but he tried to cover the pain with a cough swiftly.

Zoe hadn’t noticed. She was looking out the window at the sky overhead.

Evan briefly wondered if anyone had tried to count her freckles before. They scattered across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose like pixie dust.

“I-I-I uh,” Evan didn’t know what he was trying to say, but he felt a desperate urge to fill the silence with something, some kind of noise. Anything. “D-Do you come here o-o-often?” He paused a moment before realising it sounded like he was using a terrible pick up line. “N-N-Not in that way, j-just if y-you like it h-h-here or something, l-l-like t-to get drinks after s-school or IdontknowImsorryIllshutup.”

“You need to stop apologising so much,” she replied, giving him an odd look before sighing. Neither of them seemed to know what to say, let alone what they wanted to say.

“Sor- Uh, I-I-I mean… Okay.”

There was a lull as Zoe took a sip of her drink – what looked like a black coffee but smelt like she’d added half a cup of sugar. Maybe she was trying to stay awake?

“I don’t know, it’s near school I guess,” she finally answered with a shrug. “Whenever my mom was running late to pick us up after school, me and Connor would-“

He watched her wince at his name, trailing off into the quiet. Evan had never seen Zoe like this. Happy, definitely. Angry, sure, maybe once or twice. But this? This wasn’t even grief or sadness- it was just… Defeat.

After a long pause, he spoke softly. “Zoe, I… W-W-Why did you say you o-owed m-m-me earlier?”

Her eyes tore away from the rain clouds, and she finally met his gaze. Her eyes were almost grey blue in colour. It was a pretty but startling thing to realise when they looked at Evan with that much intensity.

Another pause.

Eventually, she just shook her head.

“I’m not supposed to say anything yet, so I guess… I just wanted to give you some warning. It’s my parents – they want to speak to you.”

And with that, Evan’s stomach dropped through the floor.

x   x   x   x   x

Evan tried to convince himself that it was nothing too bad when he got called down to the principal’s office. He and Zoe had come back before the end of their morning break, and he’d only missed Chemistry which he hardly spoke in, so maybe the teacher hadn’t noticed his absence. But then, he hardly spoke in any of his lessons. He hoped it was only something to do with paperwork. That maybe it was actually a good thing, which seemed a little far-fetched, but it got him to actually move his feet and legs through the hallways. He had never ditched class before. Is this what happened?

When he opened the door, the principal wasn’t there. Just two people he doesn’t know: a man with greyed hair who looked at him with blank eyes, and a woman who looked like she was about to have a breakdown.

He swallowed. Hard. “Good m-m-morning. Is Mr. Howard…?” He trailed off as their faces contorted in a conflicted expression each. “I-I just— sorry, they said on the loudspeaker for me to go to the principal’s office…”

“Mr. Howard is, uh, he stepped outside,” the man explained, adjusting his suit jacket as if by instinct or habit. Was he nervous too?

“Oh.” Well that was fine, Evan could just go find the principal and leave the two to whatever was happening here.

“We wanted to speak with you in private,” the man continued.

Evan stared at him.

“If you’d like to maybe…” He gestured to a chair.

Evan hesitated before sitting down on the chair furthest from the couple and closest to the door. He frantically searched his mind, trying to think of some sort of memory of these two, if they had any connection to him at all whatsoever or if they were supposed to be people he knew and remembered.

“We’re, uh… We’re Connor’s parents.”

“Oh.”

Evan felt his mind fly back to the computer lab as he’d read the screen, anxiety building and crushing him into pieces. Zoe had warned him for a reason. This couldn’t be about the searches though, Connor wouldn’t have told his parents about it, his parents wouldn’t come to school and call him out of class because of it, it doesn’t make sense it doesn’t make sense it doesn’t make—

The woman pulled a folded piece of paper out of her purse, holding it carefully.

Evan stared at it. There’s no way…

“Why don’t you go ahead, honey, and…?”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” the woman said fiercely, but the way her voice trembled gave away the pain she must have been feeling. It sounded like she was about to burst into tears.  

Evan gripped the arms of his chair.

“That’s not what I said, is it?” the man asked sharply, before sighing heavily.

The silence weighed down on Evan like an anchor. Or like his anxiety. Everything felt like anxiety, the air, the silence, the room…

Connor’s mother held the paper out to Evan. “This is… Connor… he wants you to have this.” Her voice was shaking more now, making Evan realise just how very much he wanted to be anywhere else.

He took the paper.

“We didn’t,” the man started, stumbling slightly as he searched for the words. “We’d never heard your name before. Connor never- But then we saw. ‘Dear Evan Hansen’.”

Evan resisted the urge to crumple the letter up in his hands. “He, um, he gave this to you?” he asked carefully, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He still didn’t understand. How could one letter bring the Murphys here? Did they think he was bullying Connor because of the stupid assignment? He wasn’t sure he could explain it even if he had to.

“We didn’t know that you two were friends.”

Evan inhaled sharply.

“F-f-friends?”

“We didn’t think that Connor had  _any_ friends,” Connor’s father continued. “And then we see this note and it’s— this seems to suggest pretty clearly that you and Connor are, or at least for Connor, he thinks of you as…” He pointed to the letter, struggling through his words. “I mean, it’s right there. ‘Dear Evan Hansen’. It’s addressed to _you_. He wrote it to you.”

Oh. Oh no.  _Oh no no no no_. “You think this is- you think that Connor wrote this to me?”

The woman nodded softly. “These are the words he wanted to share with you.”

“He wanted them to be his last words,” the man added, his gaze gauging Evan’s reaction to this new information.

Whatever Evan had wanted to say vanished from his mind. In fact, he was pretty sure his whole train of thought crashed to a stop. “I-I-I’m sorry. What do you mean, _last_ words?”

Connor’s parents exchanged a meaningful glance.

Evan didn’t need them to say it out loud. He already knew.

‘ _No, no please_ …’

“Connor, uh, Connor tried to take his own life,” the man said slowly. “He’s in the hospital right now.”

“He… What?” Evan knew. He knew he knew he knew _he knew_ but the words weren’t processing and everything was turning to static.

“This is all we found with him. He had it folded up in his pocket.” Evan scrambled for words, for anything that would stop this. “You can see that he’s… He probably wanted to explain it, why he tried to…” Evan shook his head fiercely, but Connor’s father keeps going and he wanted to throw up. “‘I wish that everything was different. I wish that I were part of something. I wish that what I said mattered to anyone.’”

“Please stop it, Larry,” Connor’s mother interrupted.

Evan wanted to thank her. He quickly wiped his palms on his pants. This was bad, this was **so** bad. “But, that’s, this isn’t—” ’ _Those aren’t his words!_ ’ he wanted to scream. Connor never would’ve wanted- ”I’m sorry. Connor, um, Connor d-d-didn’t write th-this.”

“What does that mean?” She asked, cutting off the end of his sentence. Her eyes had gone wide and desperate.

“Connor d-d-d-didn’t- h-h-he didn’t w-write th-th-this,” Evan stuttered. He wasn’t sure how much clearer he could get, but Connor — their  _son_ — tried to commit suicide. He’d tried to hang himself, just like the search. Yet here he was telling them that what they thought was their son’s suicide note was actually Evan’s letter for his therapist. He knew he’d made a mistake as she began to crumble.

“What does he mean?” The woman repeated hysterically, grabbing at her husband’s hand.

“He’s obviously in shock,” Connor’s father, (Evan was pretty sure she’d said Larry) consoled in such a matter-of-fact way that part of Evan almost believed him.

“N-no,” Evan protested. “I just, he didn’t—”

“It’s right here!” The redhead exclaimed desperately. As if to prove her point, she shook the letter aggressively.

Evan couldn’t do this. He could hardly even breathe. “I-I-I’m sorry, b-but I should p-p-p-probably just— c-can I please g-g-go now?”

“If this isn’t— if Connor didn’t write this, then—”

“Cynthia,” Larry said sharply. “Please. Calm down.”

Evan grabbed his backpack. “I should g-go now.”

“But did he say anything to you?” The mother pressed. “Did you see anything—?”

“I really should go,” Evan interrupted. Because she was grasping at straws and trying to understand and she couldn’t and wouldn’t and he didn’t want to be here for that.

“Cynthia, honey this is not the time.”

“This is all we have!” she wailed finally. “Connor won’t tell us, he’ll never tell us!”

“Honey. Listen to me. Please.” Larry put a hand over Cynthia’s. She pulled away and buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

All the air was sucked from the room, leaving his lungs in a vacuum.

Evan needed to leave.

“Cynthia.”

Evan held out the letter, hand shaking like a leaf. “You sh-should j-j-just— you should t-take it. Please.” He didn’t know what he’d do if he kept it. He couldn’t be near it anymore.

Cynthia looked up at him, cheeks tearstained and eyes overflowing, and gasped. “Larry, look!” She pointed to Evan’s arm. “His cast.”

Connor’s name.

Evan glances down at his cast. He’d forgotten, somehow, in all of this, he had forgotten- 

“His best and most dearest friend,” Cynthia read softly.

That was the moment Evan Hansen felt his soul die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooooooow 2 updates in 1 month. Who am I? A better version of myself? An evil clone designed to hurt peoples emotions with painfully slow burn shipping?  
> Anyway, next chapter Evan and Connor actually interact again. Sort of. Maybe. We'll see, but I hope you appreciate that it's only a small amount of angst for such a LONG ASS CHAPTER.
> 
> Cheery-bye,
> 
> \- Red x


	6. I'll Be Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor makes a decision. Evan feels guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: suicide mention  
> tw: blood/injuries mention  
> tw: hospitals
> 
> Also, the title of this chapter is inspired by Jaymes Young's song of the same name, "I'll Be Good". I seriously recommend you listen to it, as I feel it accurately describes Connor's mindset for this chapter.

It took a week for Connor to be cleared for release from the hospital.

Five days of intense observation, where he was hardly ever left alone, and when he was, there was nothing left in his room that wasn’t bolted down or useless. Apparently he stopped being a risk after then, probably because he stopped being angry and just sunk into silent hopelessness. Not that he’d spoken since it’d happened, his throat hurt too much and no sound came out. He wasn’t sure what he would even say.

A doctor had come to see him once or twice, surprised that he wasn’t getting medication or therapy given his history – along with the thick, ugly scars that covered his arms. Even from the other room he had heard the arguments Larry had with Cynthia and the staff, yelling that it was all for attention and that Connor just wanted prescription drugs that wouldn’t help anything, or that he just had to toughen up and try harder.

Was it odd that he referred to his parents by their first names? Probably. But then again, he did it to piss off Larry, because it would anger Cynthia. He did things he knew they would hate, or would get them angry. Mostly because Larry didn’t care, and Cynthia wasn’t even real half the time.

Not that his mother was a figment of his imagination – he wasn’t that crazy. But her perpetual happiness was fuelled only by a determination to appear like the fucking Brady Bunch, and he couldn’t stand how she never displayed an emotion that was real. What she actually felt. And he could get a glimpse of it when he called her Cynthia.

Why weren’t people angrier?

A question that haunted him daily. Why didn’t people just _feel_ more? Feel as much of the world as Connor did, weighing on his eyelids, his shoulders, his back…

The doctors and Cynthia seemed to back Larry into a corner after a while. Connor couldn’t leave unless proved to no longer to be a risk to himself and others, and for that he either needed a diagnosis and medication, or something to suggest that the attempt on his life was due to other influences.

Connor hadn’t been high or drunk when he’d tied the rope.

He should feel happy – after years of begging his mum to get him help, and fucking Larry telling him all boys went through mood swings as teenagers and that he was just over reacting, he was finally getting it.

But no.

Nothing.

He just wanted everything to stop already.

For the last two days he spent in the hospital, he was moved to a different room and actually left his bed by the last day. Zoe hadn’t visited since he was first brought in, and Larry was away at a meeting, so it was just Cynthia sat with him, trying coax him into talking.

Connor was so tired of her teary voice being forced through a plastic smile that it motivated him to actually get out of his assigned bed and shower. He’d be going home later today, and the longer he could avoid being in that hell hole, the better. Though the hospital wasn’t exactly paradise in comparison. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the longer he thought about it.

He caught a glance of himself in the mirror as he gingerly removed the hospital gown to shower. He looked like a monster.

His pale skin was lighter and more sickly than usual, his limbs too long and gangly, like someone had put a normal person into a machine and stretched them out. His hair was greasy and dirty and looked like a muddy halo around his pinched features. His eyes were tired, not even the streak of brown in his right eye seemed warm anymore. His arms were ribbed and striped with raised, pale pink scar tissue and darker scabs from more recent wounds, still struggling to heal before he could cut the flesh open again.

Then worst of all, the evidence of his attempt. Dark, angry bruises clasped his throat in what looked like invisible claws, and the flesh was still red and sore from where the rope had rubbed the skin raw. Red spotting had also appeared under his skin around the marks after some of the blood vessels or whatever had burst.

Connor hadn’t really thought about how he would look once he had hung himself. The other time he’d tried to die, he just took a fistful of pills. It took a good few hours before he was found passed out in the park near their house. It wasn’t as obvious he was trying to die that time. They just thought he was getting high. At worst, Connor got quite sick, but it didn’t work.

He wondered now whether his father would have given him a closed casket funeral regardless of his method, so as to quickly bury the shame of his son’s life.

Connor already looked like a corpse.

Taking weak and shaking steps, he reached out and turned on the shower head. The water ran too hot and hurt his skin, but it was better to burn than freeze. He found himself lost in his own thoughts, wondering how it all happened as sheets of water ran across his body.

The doctors had made him write out his responses when they found he was still in too much pain to talk. Bipolar disorder, paranoia, anger… Those were the words that kept coming up as they talked at him. He’d nodded when they asked if he understood, but he could barely focus on it. On anything.

His past had tasted bitter for years now. Larry fighting Cynthia, saying she was too lax and soft on the kids. Zoe getting friends whilst Connor was just being bullied. Connor getting angry. Connor closing himself off because it was easier. Turning cold. Turning to iron.

Connor taking drugs. Connor smoking drugs. Connor drinking. Connor screaming at Zoe that he would kill her, slamming his fists over and over on her bedroom door.

Connor, Connor, Connor.

It was all him. It always came back to him. He was the problem.

The blood on his hands scared him to death sometimes. Maybe the fearful part of him was also the part left of him from before he turned to shit. But he’d shut that away. Shut out the light, doubted everything, bruised and hurt those around him. He was a black hole, sucking out all the good around him. A monster that stomped out the sparks anyone held close to him.

It made him wonder if he could change.

‘ _No, not me_.’

Connor was too far gone.

But still, they were letting him out of the hospital today. Maybe he could pretend for a while, make Cynthia and Zoe happy. Not Larry, of course. But then he’d never been able to make Larry happy, or proud, or anything other than disappointed and disgusted.

Still, he had nothing else to live for right now, right?

He let out a heavy sigh.

The joke had sounded bitter even in his head.

x   x   x   x   x

Evan was startled when his phone vibrated, flinching as he was pulled out of the doze he’d fallen into as he sprawled out on his bed. Not that his phone making noises was rare – well, it was – but more that considering the time, no one with his number should be messaging him right now. His mom was working another night shift and Jared only texted when he needed to catch up on work he’d missed. Since Jared hadn’t been off sick recently, that pretty much just left his mom and his father.

It was unlikely, of course. His father barely rang once a month, mostly for a five minute chat where he awkwardly asked how Evan was and Evan lied because if he told the truth then his father would think his mom wasn’t doing a good enough job at looking after Evan because of how messed up he was and would try to get him taken way and Evan wouldn’t want to but he and Heidi wouldn’t be able to afford a good enough lawyer and he would have to move to Colorado and he would hate it but wouldn’t be able to do anything because it’d be rude and he’d just quietly have to jump in front of a bus but then the bus driver and the passengers would be traumatised and-

His train of thought was cut off when his phone buzzed a second time.

Curiosity filled him, so he sat up and reached for the off-brand device. Unlocking it quickly, he saw it was actually a message from Instagram. Two, in fact.

He could actually feel his stomach turn to stone when he saw who it was from.

Zoe Murphy.

What could he do? If he opened it, he’d know what it was about. But then, Zoe would know that he’d read it, so he would have to reply. But if he didn’t open it, Zoe might think he was trying to avoid her (which is was, but it was actually the entire Murphy family at this point). Nerves taking the best of him, he tried to back out of the app, but his hands were so sweaty that nothing registered when he tapped the screen.

“Come on…” he grumbled, wiping his hand and trying again.

Oh lord.

No.

His thumb had slipped.

**@gloweezoee:**

**‘Hey.’**

Nononononononononononono.

She’d used a full stop. Evan wasn’t sure why, but it made her sound like she was mad at him. Had Evan done something? Well, other than allow Zoe’s parents to believe he had been friends with her brother? And now possibly she had heard and believed it too? Or maybe she didn’t believe it and was going to call Evan out to her family?

He moved to the next message before he could psych himself out any more.

**‘Just as a heads up, my parents don’t want anyone to talk about what actually happened with Connor. They’re telling everyone who knows to say he has the flu. Basically, don’t go telling people at school, even friends.’**

Evan sighed with slight relief. This made sense, the family didn’t want Connor to experience worse things at school or anywhere than he already did. Or maybe they just didn’t need any prying eyes at this time.

Whichever one it was, Evan was more than happy to go along with whatever their plan was.

_‘Hey, that’s totally okay.’_

As an afterthought, he decided it would probably be more polite to add something else so as not to appear like he was shutting her down or anything.

_‘How are you? And how is he? I didn’t want to ask right away, you seemed quite-‘_ He took a moment to think of the right word. _‘- distant when we spoke the other day.’_

**‘Thanks.’**

**‘Fine, just glad we can keep this whole thing quiet. I don’t want to be known as the sister of the suicidal psycho.’**

There was a brief minute before she replied to his other question.

**‘He’s out the hospital now, but he hasn’t left his room. Mom has been asking if you want to visit him, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.’**

_‘Oh. I’m so sorry Zoe.’_

**‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault Connor’s a mess.’**

‘ _No_ ,’ he thought to himself. _‘But it might have been my fault that he wanted to die.’_

His mind was wrapped up once more in that stupid letter, and he groaned, letting his body fall back on his bed hopelessly.

Evan didn’t respond to any more messages for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW GUYS. 300 Kudos on my first real fic? You lot are the best. Shout out to everyone who has bookmarked, commented, and given Kudos. The more hits and notifications I get, the more I want to write.
> 
> In other news - sorry, I lied, no Connor/Evan interaction just yet. I actually added this chapter because I wanted to get a better handle on how I wanted to write Connor's perspective and to give a little more background before throwing him back into school. 
> 
> Please keep up the love and comments etc, and as always if you wanna chat or anything, my tumblr is @casuallytreebros.
> 
> Cheery-bye!
> 
> \- Red x


	7. A Reunion of Sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor comes back to school. Evan confesses.

The Murphy kitchen table had never been so tense. Sure, there had been moments, where Connor was high or Larry was angry or Zoe was sick of everyone’s bullshit, but today…

The air felt solid.

Cynthia had decided they all had to eat a full, properly cooked breakfast together for Connor’s first day back to school. He’d had two weeks off now and any longer would be too suspicious; Connor didn’t understand this because the teachers knew what had happened, even if the students didn’t. But Cynthia was determined to spark some kind of change and ‘recovery’ for him.

All that was happening was she was straining his commitment to being better for them. Because he’d felt everyone’s eyes drawn to his throat when he’d stumbled into the kitchen, the bruises and marks still vivid and obvious to anyone. His skin was not as sickly pale as it had been in the hospital, but he was still pale. He always had been. So the brown and yellow ring around his throat stuck out like he was in Halloween makeup a little too early. The marks shifted a little and he inhaled a quick breath.

Because on the table was a scarf.

It wasn’t bright, it was a deep red actually, and would probably suit him if there wasn’t so much meaning behind it. Because it meant his family were ashamed. They wanted to cover it up. Pretend he had the flu and was just cold, it was Autumn now after all, and that that was the only reason he wasn’t talking properly, why his voice sounded like that. Not because of the ugly, ugly truth.

Connor couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where everything changed for the family.  It started with the little things, like getting angrier than normal when his dad tried to take him to a baseball game, tried to get him to cut his hair short and into a more ‘manly’ style.  Then he started to find his mom cloying, saw that she was more interested in her own short-lived hobbies than Connor’s interests. 

With Zoe?  He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the fact that as Connor drew away, became more resentful, she grew.  She grew into a functional human, having interests that their parents could be proud of, overshadowing her brother and not understanding why Connor hated it, hated that all their relatives would rather hear about Zoe than him. His Grandma had been the one person who’d understood Connor, who’d told him that he could do whatever he wanted and damn anyone else’s expectations.  Then she’d gone and died when Connor was 12, leaving her words forgotten by everyone else and his heart harder.

Cynthia cleared her throat awkwardly, dragging Connor out of his thoughts. “Morning, would you like a pancake? I made some fresh.” This made his gaze turn in her direction, a glare forming swiftly. She was on some bullshit vegan diet right now, which meant she was putting this on for him. It was silent for a long moment.

Eventually, he grabbed the scarf off the table and an orange so she wouldn’t whine that he hadn’t eaten, before storming back out of the room.

It could’ve been so much worse, but he held back. He’d wanted to scream with what little voice he had regained, because he hated it. He hated this house. He hated how his mother pretended and how his father couldn’t understand and he hated how Zoe wasn’t angry like he was because there was so much to be angry about and yet she was still better than he ever could be.

He didn’t realise his fist was clenched so hard till he felt juice from the fruit trickle through his fingers.

x   x   x   x   x

“Evan honey, you’re gonna be late to school!”

Evan sighed. He never usually let himself wait so long, the fear of walking into his first class late and everyone staring at him and laughing because he’d probably forgotten something or put his shirt on backwards and no one would have noticed if he’d just been early like he normally was-

‘ _Breathe, Evan._ ’

He quickly checked his shirt was definitely on the right way around before picking up his rucksack, and heading down the stairs. Making a quick stop in the kitchen to grab an apple, he shoots his mom a quick smile, goes through the “Have a great day, Evan! Love you,” and the “You too, mom,” before heading out the door and starting the walk to school.

Evan wasn’t too sure when it all started, but his relationship with his mom had been… Strained for a long while now. Evan knew she meant well, but she also didn’t get it. It constantly felt like she expected Evan to just get over his anxiety now he could go to therapy, and that pushing himself should be easy. Even though she had never said it out loud, ‘You just aren’t trying hard enough,’ hung in the air, choking him with its unspoken truth.  He was trying his best, of course. But it never seemed to be enough.

It wasn’t that he was really angry with her. Evan appreciated everything his mother did for him. He knew she was working long hours to provide for the both of them and make up for his father’s late child support payments, and that she was taking classes to be a paralegal, so it made perfect sense to him that she had to be gone all of the time. But sometimes he wished things were different. That she was home more, and that they were closer, and that she had any idea, even a semblance of an idea of what he was going through.

But what if she did know what he was going through? Evan knew it was unhealthy to let his thoughts take on this self-depreciating tone all of the time, but getting sucked into it was all too easy. What if his mother found out and she was crushed? What if she hated him? What she never wanted to interact with him again, if she worked longer hours so she wouldn’t have to deal with her son?

His mom hadn’t even batted any eye when Evan had told her he just fell from the tree – though it’s what Evan had told himself he wanted, because he didn’t want her to know that he was even more messed up than she already thought, a small, secret part of him had hoped that she’d at least notice something.

It took him half an hour to get to school usually, but his worry about being late shaved off about 5 minutes as he walked much faster than usual. Luckily the sky was just a moody grey, rather than the weather they’d had recently. It had been raining harder and harder for almost a week now, on and off, even taking a couple of trees down. Evan thought of all of the trees at Ellison Park that must have fallen since the beginning of the week.

Just like he had less than a month ago.

He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the sinking feeling, sitting like a brick in the pit of his stomach. His mind had wandered back to this place lots of times following the incident. Maybe it was his fault for finding ways to link everything back to what had happened. Talking to his mom, lying to the few teachers who asked about it.

No one had noticed how bad it had become.

Jared hadn’t noticed, his own _mother_ hadn’t noticed… No one cared. And who could blame them, right? He was nobody, no one knew him, no one…

Because he was so wrapped up in his spiralling thoughts, he almost hadn’t noticed. But a flash of red caught his eye. As he turned the corner, Evan looked up.

There, standing by his locker and cramming things in as quickly as he could – was Connor.

He was in his usual black and grey clothing, hair down and messy, hung around his face like curtains to shut everyone else out. A dark red scarf was tied tightly around his throat, and Evan took a little too long to realise that he was staring.

He couldn’t help it.

He tried to focus on walking. Walking is easy.

But it’s not as easy as he thought it was, because after he takes one step, Evan couldn’t guarantee what would happen on the next one, and that started to worry him because what if he tripped and couldn’t control it? But if he told someone he couldn’t control his own feet they’d think he was crazy, but it _was_ scary because none of the steps could promise that they would get him where he wanted to go safely.

But people wouldn’t get that.

He needed to keep walking and breathing until he got out of there, away from Connor before he was seen, and away from everyone because-

“Oh no,” he gasped, realising the tingling in his hands was real and he was hyperventilating and he was being too loud and he needed to get away before Connor saw him.

Evan turned his heel and ran into the boys’ bathroom.

A lot of time passed before he managed to calm down and leave, but he did so with blotchy marks on his face, and his breath weak and uneven.

x   x   x   x   x

Somehow, Evan made it through the rest of the day in one piece. He didn’t even panic (that much) over how he was going to say ‘Here’ when his name was called for registration, but in fairness he was distracted by the fear of Connor bursting into class and screaming that it was Evan’s fault.

He pulled himself from his thoughts and smiled weakly at Jared when he saw him heading the same way.

“Hey, how w-was uh… How was sixth hour?” Evan asked, and Jared scoffed and shrugged.

“It was Spanish. I know it’s meant to look good for college, but it feels so pointless. All I did in the lesson was ask if soy milk was just milk introducing itself in ‘Espanola’,” Jared grumbled, making air quotes around the word.

Evan gave a short laugh at that, but he didn’t fully understand the joke. He assumed it was a joke, anyhow.

“Could be w-worse, though?” he offered, trying to give Jared something to be optimistic about.

“I guess.”

Jared clearly uninterested, Evan looked down at his feet embarrassed, defeat weighing down on his shoulders. Why had he said that? What sort of stupid person offered something so useless? His head snapped up when he realised Jared had been talking to him.

“Hey, Earth to Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked if you wanted a ride home.”

The look on his face made it quite clear that any lift was towards car insurance, so Evan shook his head and mumbled something about getting the bus.

“Whatever. Tell your mom I was ni-“

“Y-Y-Yeah, don’t worry I w-will,” Evan interrupted quickly. He didn’t want to hear about how Jared was simply being nice for his car insurance. Besides, Jared wasn’t the best driver. Or the safest. His anxiety had been tested enough for one day.

Or so he thought.

Because after closing up his locker and walking out of the door towards the car park, Evan almost slammed straight into someone.

Not just anyone.

Someone tall.

With long hair.

And a red scarf.

“Connor,” Evan breathed, eyes widening. He was too scared to even apologise for nearly bowling the two of them over.

He was taken aback a little when he was met with two dull, unfocused eyes, that didn’t hold a shred of anger, or anything really. He just looked tired.

“Oh, you,” Connor said, and Evan nodded, eyes plastered to the floor. Was Connor still mad about the letter? Or had someone told him about Evan? He had no idea how to react to him.

He didn’t expect the next words out of Connor’s mouth.

“Zoe told me what you did, so… Sorry. You shouldn’t have been brought into that.”

“I-I-It’s okay,” Evan said quickly, even though it really wasn’t, because he had been worried Connor wouldn’t actually be coming back to school because he was dead and that he’d hear three days later and it would be all his fault-

“So, you fell out of a tree, huh?”

Evan looked up in confusion at Connor – this is what he chose to ask about?

“I, uh… Y-yeah,” Evan said, looking down at the hem of his shirt and beginning to pick at a loose string.

Connor watched him closely. “That’s what you said, or that’s what happened?”

Evan looked up at him, surprised. “Oh! I-uh, that’s what happened. I worked as a park ranger at Ellison State Park over the summer? And in my last week I kind of… I fell out of a tree, the branch broke when I was climbing.”

“You were climbing trees,” Connor echoed, continuing to watch Evan closely. Evan could feel himself start to sweat. Why was Connor so inquisitive? It was just a broken arm. People broke their arms all the time. Sure, he was seventeen and had broken his arm climbing trees, which was kind of weird, but no weirder than writing letters to himself which Connor probably had worked out if he’d read his letter properly.

Evan just nodded rapidly, wanting the ground to swallow him whole.

In response, Connor pulled out a folded piece of paper and thrust it out towards the shorter boy. “I managed to get this back off my mom. She seems to think I wrote it to you.”

“I-I-I… Thank y-you.”

“Why did you mention Zoe?”

Evan was pretty sure he was as white as a sheet right now. “Hmm?”

“Why did you write about my sister? And don’t lie, Hansen. Why did you write about Zoe?”

Panic had filled his body to the point where he felt like a live wire. Trying to form a coherent sentence, it took a few goes to get the words out.

“B-b-b-because she’s really n-nice and friendly and sh-sh-sh-sh-she asked if I-I-I was okay w-w-when I… When I f-f-f-fell and I‘m k-k-kind of a l-loser and s-s-so Ijustreallywantedtomakeafriend.”

Connor went quiet, and studied him for a long while. Eventually, he seemed to have come to a decision about Evan because he nodded slowly.

“What was it?”

“W-w-what?”

“The letter? ‘Dear Evan Hansen’?”

“I-It’s… Uh, it’s… An assignment.”

“Bullshit.”

“N-N-N-No it really is I s-swear!  Have to write letters to myself because it’s part of my ther-“

Evan cut himself off. He couldn’t admit that. Not to Connor Murphy, not to the boy who’d tried to die less than a month ago.

Connor's head cocked to one side, questioning yet again.

“M-M-My…”

Fear was filling him. His hands were just getting more and more sweaty.

“Part of your what, Hansen?”

He felt the words spill from his mouth before he could hold them back.

“P-P-Part of m-my therapy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to y'all who celebrate, and happy New Year to those who don't. I have coursework and exams and interviews over the next month, so updates will take time. Sorry.
> 
> Cheery-bye,
> 
> \- Red x

**Author's Note:**

> Whaddup so I've returned to writing fanfiction (????) right before my exams (?????????????????) but I really enjoyed this. It was so nice to do something creative again. 
> 
> Anyway, as hard-core fans will have noticed, this follows very closely to the canon. Once we pass the computer lab scene things will switch up, but I hope you guys will like this. Please feel free to throw suggestions and ideas at me in the comments, it makes a writer happy :3 Oh, and be ready for slow burn; I feel like these two could actually have happened if there were some slight differences.
> 
> Cheery-bye,
> 
> \- Red x


End file.
